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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29782071">Summer Snows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingWasSimple/pseuds/NothingWasSimple'>NothingWasSimple</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All my fics from best to worst [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bard - Freeform, First time seeing snow, Reddit Prompt, Snow, Traveler - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:35:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>469</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29782071</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingWasSimple/pseuds/NothingWasSimple</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A dornish bard in the North experiences snow for the first time.</p><p>For the r/thecitadel prompt Hot or Cold (I chose cold)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All my fics from best to worst [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2314295</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Summer Snows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A lone buzzard circled high in the sky, a black splodge against the pale grey clouds. He licked his cracked red lips. This far north the air was dry, the wind was harsh. He was only two days past the Neck and was already regretting his decision, but competition was stiff in the south, and bards rare further north. He hoped to ply his trade in White Harbour, or mayhaps even Winterfell itself, should he get that far. He no longer had confidence in that plan though. One thing was certain; he was not in the red mountains of Dorne anymore.</p><p>He plodded on along the poorly kept kingsroad, avoiding the many dips and divets that dotted the trail. Trees shivered in the wind. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, but it did little to protect him from the gusts that tried to push him back southwards.</p><p>The sticky humidity of the Riverlands was but a distant memory now, and arid Dorne just a dream. He wondered if he had ever felt warmth, or if that was little more than an illusion cooked up in his mind.</p><p>Light was fading now; the ill-defined shadows stretched their twilight tendrils out to greet him. If he did not reach a settlement soon, he knew he would freeze.</p><p>Dust began to drift around him, cold and white. It swirled in circles, dancing to some unheard tune. It turned to water on his skin.</p><p>
  <em>Snow.</em>
</p><p>He had heard tales of it on his travels but never thought to see it fall himself. It was the hight of summer, the season for warm rain and fresh-grown fruits. Golden fields and sheep in the high pastures. Snow shouldn’t be falling now.</p><p>His feet were numb now, his hands too. He tucked them under his oxters and stumbled on forwards. A thin white powder lay across the road, reflecting the last light of dusk all around him. Far away a wolf howled, and its pack joined the song. His shiver was not just from the cold.</p><p>The snow was sticky now. It lay thick enough to hamper his movement. Night had truly fallen and his pace had slowed to a crawl. He wouldn’t live much longer, couldn’t in the cold. He had wrapped both his cloaks around him but couldn’t feel any of his limbs. He knew not how he forced himself onwards.</p><p>He tripped in a hollow in the track and pain shot through his leg. He lacked the strength to stand. It wasn’t so cold now, the snow was soft. It felt as though a blanket had been draped over him. He closed his eyes, a short rest shouldn’t be too dangerous, surely. He felt almost warm.</p><p>As sun rose in the clear blue sky, a lone buzzard landed on his lifeless body.</p>
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